


As a Stark...

by Origami_Roses



Category: The Addams Family (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origami_Roses/pseuds/Origami_Roses
Summary: It had been ages since Tony attended a family reunion. The invitation arrived just when he most needed family.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 375
Collections: My amazing all time favourites.





	As a Stark...

It had been ages since Tony had attended a family reunion. He had very little family to reunite with. Howard had been an only child, after all, and Maria's family lived far away, for the most part. He'd met them once or twice when he was quite young, before he'd garnered the attention of the world at large as an engineering prodigy.

Before Howard had decided that being associated even slightly with "that sort" wasn't worth having his son out of the house for days at a time. 

Decades later, after the minimum of time spent recovering from his injuries in Siberia, after meetings upon meetings and sleepless nights spent doing what he could to prevent the Accords from turning into what Rogers had feared them to be, Tony needed a break. 

Coincidentally, one of the very-few-and-very-far-between letters from Maria's side of the family arrived, inviting him to their "Millennial Reunion" to be held the next week. His vague childhood memories of a wonderful kaleidoscope of gleeful insanity and his need to get away decided the issue. He put together a flight plan, packed a bag, and sent off his RSVP that very night. 

He arrived a few days early, and they welcomed him with open arms. Those that had arms. Cousin Itt gave him a friendly shoulder bump, and Thing gave him a friendly fist bump. 

As the other guests trickled in, he rediscovered the joy of random, just-for-the-hell-of-it explosions with Fester, Wednesday and Pugsley, and spent some quality time in the kitchen with Grandmama. (Despite the occasional side effects, he found himself healing faster than he'd have expected with the help of her home cooking.) Lurch invited him to play duets on the piano, and some distant cousins joined in with other instruments. Their impromptu jam sessions continued more or less constantly over the next several days, with the roster of players changing as instruments were handed off to others, seemingly at random. 

People of all colors, shapes, sizes and descriptions swirled through the barely controlled chaos of the Addams' extended family tree, gathered to celebrate whatever had happened 1000 (3000? 5000?) years ago to form this crazy, vibrant clan. (He never did get the full story.) They gathered from all across the globe, from places he'd never heard of and places he knew well. They danced and talked and fought - sometimes with words and sometimes with swords. There were faces he vaguely recognized as having met at one conference or another and faces he was certain he'd never seen before; faces that would stand out in a crowd and faces that were so generic you'd all but forget them when you turned away. 

Though he outclassed everyone there in the sheer number of areas of expertise, Tony found himself impressed at the depth of knowledge many of his distant relatives held and the broad range of subjects their collective minds encompassed. It was refreshing to be able to have intelligent, abstract, witty conversations with nearly every person in the room. He learned to embrace his past as people he had never met claimed him as their own. 

Rather than being pilloried as the Merchant of Death, he was praised. Instead of being ignored, people sought him out for random, rambling, casual conversations covering everything from deep space exploration to fighting post-apocalyptic zombies to Medieval torture techniques. His opinions and advice were sought rather than spurned, and his voice was not merely heard but listened to. No one told him he was too noisy or that his ego was too big. No one made him feel small and insignificant. He felt accepted. Completely. All of himself, every aspect of his personality, every quirk, every fear and flaw, every plan and potential. They may not agree with him (heated debates on the merits of murder and sociopathic family values proved that unequivocally), they may not fully understand him, but he was one of them nonetheless. 

It was a strange feeling, this unconditional acceptance. And it was not until his second to last day there that Tony began to understand. He had stumbled upon the one place in the mansion or on its grounds that was quiet. It was not empty, but somehow sound just didn't carry as far here and mists from the surrounding marsh wove a veil of solitude despite the brightness of the day. He had never cared for cemeteries, but this one was somehow different. It was not the completely ordinary gravelled paths, nor was it the unusual statues gracing some of the headstones. There was a _weight_ to the very air, a sense that history was not left in the past but filling the present. And yet it was a grounding presence rather than a crushing burden. This was a place for deep thoughts. 

His continually rushing mind settled as he stood in silent contemplation before the central mausoleum, staring at but not seeing the trees that flickered like shadows in the curling, sunlit mists. Being unexpectedly joined by his hostess didn't startle him, so deep was the calm that had claimed him. 

"I am glad you could come, Anthony. It is always a pleasure to find a missing piece of the family tree." 

"Thank you for the invitation, Morticia. It is a pleasure to get to know my family. For the first time in... I don't know how long, I feel like I'm where I belong." 

"Even those who continually look to the future, need their past, Anthony. The tallest buildings must have strong foundations, and the fastest growth requires strong roots. You have found yours. Family is roots. Traditions are foundations." 

"I can't say I've ever been one for tradition." 

"Oh, but you are. It is carved there, in the lintel." She gestured to the mausoleum beside them. "The sole and eternal tradition of our family, which you have long upheld." He could just make out the words _Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc_ in the pale marble above the doorway. Barely remembered Latin and fluent Italian gave him a rough translation: 'We feast on all who would conquer'. 

"As an Addams, you understand." 

He thought about his life: all the pain, the trials he'd endured, the obstacles he'd overcome to survive and to save those he loved, the enemies he had refused to allow victory, the people he had slain by his own hand for daring to come after him and his... 

"As a Stark, yes, I do." 

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I wake up well before my alarm with fragments of dreams (I have strange dreams, ok) filtering through my mind and time to ponder them. I suspect part of this originated with a Harry Potter (who was adopted by the Addams) fic I read... ages ago. and part from lovely misty bayou vistas near my home. I'm not sure where the Iron Man tie-in sprang from (besides my crazy brain), but he'd love their parties.


End file.
